A Promise Fulfilled
by dannyboymw
Summary: ... and a Mustang always keeps his word. Mild violence and language
A Promise Fulfilled by dannyboymw

 **Fuhrer**

 _Knock knock_

"Hello, Edward, how are you?"

"Hello, Lieutenant. I'm good, thanks."

"And Winry?"

"She is doing well; she wished she could come also, but the baby is due in a couple months, and we didn't want to take any risks. We were sorry to hear about Fuhrer Grumman's death. He was a good man."

"Thank you, and tell Winry we understand. How is Al?"

"He's still in Xing, but last we heard, he is in perfect health and in good spirits."

"I'm glad." There was a short pause. "He's in the office, if you'd like to come in."

"Thanks."

"Mustang, sir. Edward is here."

"Send him in." Hawkeye gestured the visitor in.

"It was good to see you, Hawkeye." The door closed behind him, but Mustang was on the phone, so Edward kept quiet until the conversation was over.

"Yes, I'm sorry about that; until tomorrow, then. Alright. Bye. Were you hitting on the Lieutenant, just now?"

This caught the accused off guard, who hadn't expected the accuser to have been paying enough attention to read anything into the conversation he had had with Hawkeye. "I was just being friendly is all, sheesh. I never took you to be the over-protective type."

"Careful, you're a married man."

"About that. I would have expected the two of you to have tied the knot yourselves – and I expect to be best man when you do."

"You presume we intend to marry."

"Give me a break! The two of you have been living together for 8 months; why wouldn't you get married?"

"Do you know who you are talking to, Fullmetal? After tomorrow's ceremony, I will officially become Fuhrer. Surly you heard"

"I had heard, congratulations, and in fact, I come on official business."

"Oh?" with that, Ed slapped a handful of coins on Mustang's desk. "That isn't due for another day."

"I figured that tomorrow will be full of good times and, the days after will keep you very busy – I'm liable to forget. But if you'd like…" he reached for the money.

"I'll take it now."

"Changed your mind?"

Silence.

"Is there anything else, Fullmetal?"

Elric grumbled slightly, suspecting something was bothering the General, but only said, "no." He turned, "Before I go, though, I would like to borrow 300 of those." And left.

After he had gone, Lieutenant Hawkeye entered, collected the papers from the neatly stacked pile on the right side of Mustang's desk, bringing in another stack placing it on the left side next to those still incomplete. She turned, and made her way to the door.

"Tell me," said Mustang, eyes closed, chin to his chest, "you haven't changed your mind, have you?"

"No." Was the reply, not turning around. "There would be no point." She turned her head, using peripheral vision to see Mustang sitting there emotionless. "We discussed this, and agreed it would be a bad idea. Why do you bring it up now?"

He smile a bit. "I'm not sure. True, there would be no point in it, but seeing him today made me think that it could be nice."

"Imagining such things is dangerous." Mustang was alone with his thoughts. And paperwork.

 **Democracy**

"Congratulations, Fuhrer. Winry and I heard the entire speech on the radio." Edward intercepted Mustang who had not, yet, made it back to his office from the policy room.

"Yeah, well, there still has yet to be a vote. The council is comprised of good men. But they are still men and vulnerable to corruption and the appeal to power."

"I suppose."

"Still, I have faith that they will adopt my proposal. The voting should not take very long, if you'd like to wait for the results in my office…"

"I might just take you up on that. We do have business to discuss, after all."

"Ensign, see to it that two glasses and a pitcher of wine is brought to my office."

"Your son is almost due, am I right?

"That's right." Replied Elric.

"Have you decided on what to name him?"

"We have. Winry and I both agreed that we'd like to name him Maes." Edward looked into Mustang's eyes searching for any sign of disapproval. There was none.

"It's a good name. And I have no doubt that he will live up to his namesake."

"No fear. We will see to it that he does."

There was a knock at the door and the Fuhrer's personal secretary entered the room, and bowed. "Fuhrer, they await your presence to cast the final vote."

Mustang finished the last three sips in one gulp and placed the glass back on the desk. "Wait here, for my return, Elric." He stood and left the room followed by his secretary.

Despite the short wait, Ed was restless being left alone in such a formal room. There was nothing of interest, save for a framed portrait of Hughes. He was not himself in the picture, rather it was the image of the man people saw – he was smiling his silly grin. The same one he had when talking about his wife and daughter. He stared at the photograph for a half a minute. The next thing to command his attention was the wine left in the pitcher. With nothing else to occupy his time, he was restless and eager to pour himself a glass. The only thing preventing him, was the notion of gentlemanly conduct; it would be impolite to pour himself a glass with the host absent. After warring with himself on the subject, he gave in to the temptation and grabbed the pitcher. No sooner had he begun to fill his cup when the Fuhrer entered the room. Both paused for a moment. Then Mustang took the pitcher from Edward's hands and poured the rest into his glass. He said nothing as he did so.

"I'll be having those 300 cens now." He said at length, "Here's to the new government," and took a sip of wine, then handed it to Edward who followed suit.

"Congratulations, my Fuhrer" and bowed with exaggeration. "I think I will keep half of the money, though."

Mustang gave a start. "What is it this time?"

"The Lieutenant told me you plan on having trials to hold soldiers who enjoyed the destruction of Ishval responsible."

The Fuhrer stared at his borrower with surprise. First, that he would know about that, and second that he would bring it up in such a way, in the context that he did. He quickly regained his composure and relaxed. "Very well, Fullmetal. You may keep what you wish. If you will excuse me now, I have a phone call I must make."

The secretary came and escorted Edward out of the room and Mustang picked up the phone. "Hello, Gracia, how are you?" Edward halted, stunned, and turned to look back as if he were able to see through the phone and confirm who was on the other end of the call. But his sight was blocked by the door closing. Still he stood, trying desperately to see through the wooden obstacle, but his effort was short lived as the secretary prompted his departure.

 **Debt, Paid in Full.**

"I have to say Fuhrer, even knowing what you had planned, I never expected to see you like this." Edward stood before Mustang separated by an iron door. "Prison life doesn't suite you."

"Please Edward, call me Roy. Is formality really that necessary in a place like this?"

Ed forced a smile. Even in here, he is able to keep his sarcastic humor – as sadistic as it may be. "No. I suppose not."

"I believe I have held up my end of the bargain. You owe me 150 cens."

"You are a penny pincher aren't you? What good will money do you here?"

"Nothing, but that isn't the point. It's the principle that counts."

"Fine. It's right here." He reached into his pocket and handed Mustang the amount he was due. "You do realize, though, that this predicament leaves me unsatisfied, which means that I need to borrow more money."

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Calm down. I'll pay you back when you are released."

"Hahaha! How can I refuse a bargain like that?"

"I knew you'd see reason."

Mustang put his hand into his own pocket and counted the coins in his hand. And laughed. No, he guffawed.

"What is it?" The door leading down to the cells opened and a familiar figure came down the stairs. It was Hawkeye.

"It's nothing. You'll have to excuse me now. I have business with the Lieutenant."

Edward bid Mustang farewell and, obediently, he left, greeting the Lieutenant on his way out.

"We have to make this visit count; it's the only one they've given me." It was Riza's voice.

The door closed behind him and he stood in bright sunlight. He raised his right hand, still in a fist holding all of Mustang's spare change. He counted. 520 Cens.

There wasn't an empty seat in the court room; people stood so close together that they probably doubled the maximum population requirements. The crowd formed out, into the lobby and were massed outside the building. Windows were opened for them to hear. Everyone was restless. _What was taking the jury so long?_ Murmurs flooded the rooms and could almost, even, be heard throughout the city. At last, the dirty dozen re-entered the court and gave their verdict. No one reacted to the news. All they could do was stare blankly and wide-eyed. The silence was broken by the judge.

"Roy Mustang, you have been found guilty of war crimes in Ishval. Justice demands that the punishment fit the crime; and so, by the power vested in me by the state, you shall be burned to death."

Edward jumped up to object, but a hand grabbed his shoulder and gently encouraged him to sit back down. "Lieutenant Breda…"

"Let it be, Ed."

"Next Case: Command vs Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Lieutenant Hawkeye, you are accused of murder and accessory to genocide during wartime. How do you plead?"

"Guilty, your Honor."

"Noted. Will the Records please present the facts to the court?"

For the next two hours, Hawkeye stood, determined and expressionless, as her crimes were being listed in detail, and the circumstances surrounding them. The jury was, again, released to deliberate. When they returned, shortly after, they delivered the verdict. "Not guilty."

"Your Honor!" Cried Hawkeye, "I must protest to this injustice! I request that the jury reconsider their decision."

"Lieutenant Hawkeye. You were not an officer in the Ishvalin Civil War, and were only following orders. I will not call for a retrial. The verdict stands."

The gavel fell.

 **Life and Death**

"We are here Winry. Let me help you out." Ed parked in front of the hospital, opened the passenger door and helped his wife – now in labor – out of the car. In a very short time, a nurse came out the front door and approached them to help. With Ed's right arm around Winry's waist and his left hand on her left shoulder, and the nurse supporting her right arm, Winry was brought safely into a private birthing room. The building was almost empty, as everyone was attending the execution.

Riza Hawkeye moved ever closer to the checkpoint. Her progress was only as efficient as security was able to move the crowd through the entrance. In time it was her turn to be checked. The soldier in charge looked at her with suspicion, although he was also very nervous. Everyone was given orders to keep a close eye on her. There was nothing suspicious about her appearance. She was dressed in formal attire, clothed in what was probably the best dress she had. There were even signs that she had put on fundamental make-up accessories. She had even pinned up her hair.

"You are ordered to relinquish all and any weapons, ma'am." She lifted the hem of her dress and surrendered a 9mm holstered from her hip. The soldier might have felt embarrassed, and perhaps blushed a little, if it were not for the intimidating look on Riza's face. Once she turned in two more side arms, she was asked to stand to the side upon entering. Sheska stood waiting for her looking somber and a bit depressed. "I am sorry, Hawkeye. I am required to search you so you can't sneak in any weapons. You understand, don't you?"

"It's fine." The process was swift, since she had already turned in all the weapons on her person.

After that ordeal, Hawkeye made her way to where the crowd gathered in front of the platform where Fuhrer Mustang was to meet his end. There was a natural aisle in the middle of the masses which the condemned would be led down. She stood there and looked around to see that everyone was in place should something go wrong.

Edward sat next to Winry, as she lay weak, helpless, and vulnerable on the hospital bed. He whispered comforting words into her ear, her hand in his. A radio silently mumbled in the background. The doctor soon entered followed by an entourage of assistants.

"How are you Missus Elric? Are there any ailments or unnatural pains I should know about." Winry shook her head. "Good, do you have any health deficiencies which would require special attention or treatment during this process?" Again, the answer was no. "Excellent. Then let's begin."

At exactly 12:00 pm, the crowd fell silent and watched as two soldiers entered their midst through the aisle followed by the Fuhrer, tall and unmoved, with two more soldiers bringing the rear. There were no trumpets. No pomp or ceremony. It was quiet. It was still. Even the noon bells failed to ring. Except for the procession, it was as if time itself stopped to pay its respect, and all the pets and insects obeyed. When they were almost by where she stood, Hawkeye removed the pin, letting her hair fall and stepped into the aisle barring passage.

A cry pierced the air.

"Congratulations on a job well done, my dear. It is my honor to give you your son. Maes Elric."

 _With a surprising turn of events the Fuhrer has been assassinated!_

Doctor, nurses, and couple, all gave a start and turned to the where the radio stood on the mantle. One of the nurses turned up the volume.

 _A blonde woman has emerged from the crowd and stabbed Fuhrer Mustang in the throat! We still do not have any reports on who the mystery woman could be! She is now being led from the scene under arrest._

"I wonder who it was!" exclaimed one of the nurses.

Winry looked, concerned, to Edward who had his head bowed with eyes tightly closed. "Lieutenant," he thought to himself. "What have you done?"

Hawkeye wrapped her arm around Mustang to keep him from falling, and stabbed him in the jugular – killing him instantly. Then lowered him down, his head resting on her lap. Only four years earlier, their places were reversed. Mustang had held her in his arms after being used in an effort to get the Colonel to perform human transmutation. Now he lay in her arms, bloody and still – because she killed him.

Winry held young Maes in her arms. Still weary from the ordeal, she was permitted to remain in bed, but Edward needed to stand and make sense of everything that was happening. He had tried to keep Mustang's sentence from Winry, fearing she might collapse in health at the news, but somehow he felt that she had known the whole time. Whatever the case may be, she was fine – they both were. He watched as his wife coddled their child through the glass windows when he heard a voice behind him.

"Hello, Ed." It was Gracia Hughes. Before Ed could unleash all of the news, she continued. "I came to see how Winry is doing; I would have liked to have been here to comfort her as she gave birth. But the streets were so crowded and people were running this was and that."

"Miss Gracia! Did you hear what happened? The Lieutenant killed Mustang!"

"So she was able to pull it off without being stopped. I'm glad."

"Do you mean to say that you knew?"

"Of course. Maes was Roy's only confidant, the two of them had no secrets from each other, even though they both knew that I was my husband's confidant and told me everything, just as Riza always knew everything that involved Roy. After my husband died, he called every day and we would comfort one another. To him, I was an extension of the man he knew and had died."

"Why didn't anyone tell me what he intended?"

"What good would it have done? Nothing would have changed. Only, you would have that on your mind. No. It was best this way. You needed to look after Winry. How could you have taken care of her as she was carrying your child if you were thinking of the Fuhrer's requiem?"

Edward clenched his fists and gritted his teeth in frustration. "Still, I wish I had known. Things I said, things I didn't say. It must have been hard for him to hear."

"It would have been harder for him if you had known. He can't stand it when people feel sorry for him. You of all people must understand that."

 **The End**

"Damn Colonel. What was the point?" It was a cloudy on the day that Ed stood before Mustang's grave, realizing he never actually understood him. "I suppose _you_ would have known." He turned slightly to the right, two rows back and a couple over was Hughes tombstone. "You always understood others. Do you approve? I wouldn't put it past you if you were part of it from the beginning. All according to plan." He redirected his gaze back to the Colonel. "Well I kept my promise. Even in death I expect you to keep yours. If the country loses its way I'll come here and clobber you." He turned to go when three figures approached. "Lieutenant Hawkeye!" The Lieutenant, under guard, was handcuffed but otherwise looking her normal self. "I wouldn't have expected them to let you come here."

"I was granted this wish as a last request."

"A last request? You mean…"

"Don't worry about me, Ed." Elric bowed his head in helplessness. _Her too?_ "Winry's waiting, isn't she? Don't let me keep you."

For a few moments no one moved, then Edward straightened, looked the Lieutenant in the eyes and offered his hand. His eyes were filled with a mixture of gratitude and of sadness. "Good bye Lieutenant Hawkeye." He left.

When the party stood before Roy Mustang's grave, the sun forced its way past the confines of the prison blocking it from the earth. A ray caught something in Hawkeye's eye. A glimmer. _Rocks don't reflect the sun like that_. After being exposed to it for the past few years, she recognized it as a few coins infused into the tombstone using alchemy. 520 Cens.


End file.
